I sat in a kitchen Sunday night playing some new song ideas for a few friends. The room was illuminated with fluorescent light; the smell of baking apple pie coaxed our appetite. I quietly sang a few verses so I wouldn’t wake their kids upstairs. I felt vulnerable because these songs are new and the wounds that inspired them are still fresh. But I wanted to know what my most honest of friends thought. I ended the verses, relaxed my strumming hand on top of my guitar and fastened it there with my chin on the back of my palm. Looking up I asked, “What do you think?” They commented on the movement of the music, the thrust of the words—all was positive. We migrated to the living room, caught up on some Jimmy Fallon episodes, and stuffed our faces with apple pie.

It came time to leave. Walking out the door, I turned around and asked, “So what did you really think?” as though expecting them to confess they actually hated the songs. But instead, I walked away feeling the most encouraged I’ve felt in several months because of the words of one particular friend. She said, “Your songs made we want to paint.”

Compliments like that are the most affirming to my music. It’s a reminder to me that maybe I’m doing something right. So thank you. Thank you to everyone who has encouraged me. Your words are what keep an artist hopeful.